Kotoko pulled the vibrating phone out of her purse, sneaking a glance to make certain that the teacher was still inattentive. Sure enough, he was droning on, reading from notes that had probably not changed in the past fifteen years.

A message from Irie-kun?

'Check your lunch.'

She leaned down and slowly unclasped that portion of her bag. Blue and green plaid wrapper. Mrs. Irie had definitely shown her a package with pink flowered fabric this morning at breakfast. Kotoko sent Naoki a frantic emoji.

'Stairwell. Ten minutes.'

She kept her fingers tightly knotted with each other to avoid twitching as she watched the second hand make its ponderous way around the clock face. Finally she raised her hand. "Permission to be excused, Sensei?"

The teacher blinked and paused in mid-sentence before nodding. "Now, where was I?" he muttered as he scanned the paper in front of him.

"You think she's okay, Satomi?" Jinko craned her neck to follow Kotoko's progress.

"Probably her monthly visitor came early. After all, she took her bag with her." Satomi's eyes did not rise from her nails, which she was currently filing.

"She didn't take that hall." Jinko was now almost horizontal.

Slightly alarmed, Satomi turned herself. "What is she doing, then?"

"This lecture is boring. Let's go!"

The two girls also begged to be excused and hurried after.

"Hm." Kinnosuke's brain struggled to process the information. "Say, guys," he hissed at his posse, "did Kotoko look shook up before she left?"

"Dunno," said Gintaro.

Dozo, who sat nearer, offered, "She was bouncing around a little and looked worried."

"And her gal pals followed. Well, if she's upset, she probably wants a strong masculine shoulder to cry on." He stood and smoothed back his hair and swaggered out the door without asking for permission to leave.

"Obasama must have been districted this morning," Kotoko said as she hurried towards Naoki.

"I think you mean 'distracted', and, no," he shook his head, "she just wanted to cause trouble."

"Well, thank goodness Hakamada-sensei never asks why a girl wants to leave the classroom," she declared. "What excuse did you give?"

He raised an eyebrow as he gave her the pink package. "None. The teachers assume that students in Class A know what they're about."

She scowled. "You have it easy, then. Well, here you go." She handed him the larger box.

"Um, how's class going?" he asked, for some reason not wanting to cut the conversation short.

"Boring as usual. All those dates and names run together by the end of the period."

"If you need some help studying, remember I'm just a room away," he offered.

"Really?" She stared at him. "Your mother said the same thing last night."

"She did? Wait a minute… she wouldn't… she can't be…"

"What?" Kotoko leaned towards him without thinking.

"I think my mom is matchmaking," he told her baldly.

"Matc—? Oh!" Kotoko put up a hand to stifle a giggle. "If she only knew that we were total opposites! How silly!"

"Silly, yeah," he said, with a frown. "Well, you'd better go back to class. I'll wait a little bit so no one will think we were together in order to preserve your precious secret."

"Thanks, Irie-kun!" She smiled and almost skipped down the hallway.

Kinnosuke scampered back once he saw her enter the hall and slid into his chair with feigned nonchalance, hiding his aggravation that Kotoko had not required any assistance involving a hug or other bodily contact.

Satomi and Jinko exited from their alcove when Kotoko paused at a drinking fountain. Before they entered the classroom, they turned and saw Naoki exit the stairwell and walk towards Class A.

"Wow! That was close!" Jinko said softly.

"You aren't kidding," Satomi agreed. "Kotoko shouldn't go out without at least one of us accompanying her."

Oblivious of her watchers, Kotoko blithely resumed her seat.

"Now that everyone has returned, let us open our textbooks and answer questions 3, 6, and 7 on page 124."

'Everyone'? Kotoko wondered as she complied with the teacher's instructions.

Naoki knocked on Kotoko's door. Hearing nothing, he risked opening it. "Hey," he said, spying her seated like a statue on the bed, "it's your turn with the bath." He was taken aback when she spun around and stared at him intently. "What?" He looked down to make sure that everything was covered and fastened.

"Your mother just left," she replied slowly.

Catching sight of the tray of food, he nodded. "She's a maniac for snacks. If you don't like to eat this late at night, just let her know."

"No, I'm usually always hungry, but…" She shuddered.

Naoki stepped inside. "Are you okay?"

"I am, but how are you okay?"

"What?"

"Your mom was showing off one of her photo albums…" Her voice trailed off.

"And? Wait a minute… not that album?" His face displayed a pained expression.

Kotoko nodded. "I thought I was bad off NOT having a mother. You have my symphony."

"Damn!" Naoki sat next to her, too disturbed to correct her. "She promised not to tell."

"Um, she was very proud of her pictures. And you did look cute. I really thought you were a girl."

He shot her a glare. "What will it take for you to forget that you ever saw those?"

"I don't think that I can. The image is, like, seared into my brain or something. But don't worry," she grinned, "I promise to keep it a secret." She moved her index finger and thumb over her mouth in a zipping motion.

"I suppose I have no other option than to trust you," he concluded.

"Well, I'm having to trust you, aren't I?" she countered.

"I wasn't going to bully you at school," he argued.

"And I wasn't going to tell anyone about the pictures. Think, silly—no one even knows that we know each other."

"That's too many '[k]no[w]'s', but I get the picture. So," he leaned down and picked up a worksheet from the low table, "what're you working on?"

"Calculus," she groaned.

"It's not the simplest form of math," he agreed.

"Any kind of math is my enemy," she informed him. "My scores aren't that high, anyway, but I always tank in math. And if I do as badly as I usually do," she pouted, "I'll end up taking summer review courses. Again."

"That's too bad." He snapped his fingers. "I know! I offered to help you study, so why don't I see if I can change your opinion about math?"

"I think that's an impossible task," she told him, "but I don't mind some help, I guess. After all, mid-terms aren't that far off."

"Time is short," he agreed. "Okay, find out as much as you can about what's going to be on them, and I'll work out a study schedule. But for right now," he pulled her down to the floor, "let me explain this concept here."